


Blood Lure

by deathmarkedlove_archivist



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-29
Updated: 2007-01-29
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:57:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathmarkedlove_archivist/pseuds/deathmarkedlove_archivist
Summary: Buffy forces Spike to feed on her, and then they must deal with the consequences, one of which is a run in with the first Slayer. NC-17





	1. Chapter 1

Spike threw down the remote control in frustration. He hadn’t found anything to watch on the telly since they had canceled Passions. He wondered if he dared ask Buffy if she would get cable. Since Giles had convinced the Watchers Council to give Buffy a paycheck so that she could keep hearth and home together while battling the forces of darkness things were better, but she was still on a pretty tight budget.

Stingy blokes. Considering Buffy had pulled their fat out of the fire and literally saved the world on what seemed like a yearly basis. To make it worse, it came with strings attached.

Spike had been floored when Giles had called and asked him to be the one to complete the monthly reports the council required.

“Knowing Buffy’s antipathy toward written language I was hoping you would consent to this duty.”

“Why not Red? She could type ‘em up in a heartbeat on that spiffy laptop of hers.”

Spike heard a sharp indrawn breath and the rustle of fabric. He was almost certain Giles was cleaning his glasses again.

“No, Willow’s magical studies are keeping her occupied for the time being.”

Spike wondered if Giles was as unsettled as he about Willow’s newly heightened powers. She’d been down right scary lately, and that forgetting spell bordered on abuse. Spike had seen it happen before. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. The only thing he hoped was that when it came time for someone to take her down, that it wouldn’t have to be Buffy.

The paperwork wasn’t too bad. The council had just requested statistics on the numbers slain and what types of demons, if known, plus a narrative. He would have given his fangs to know if Ripper had told the council just who was filling out their bloody paperwork. Even though Buffy signed them, he was being a proper secretary and putting his initials at the bottom. Just to see if anyone would comment.

Spike checked the anniversary clock on the Summer’s mantle. The late afternoon sunlight streamed in around the edges of the closed curtains casting the motes of dust in the air into bas-relief. Three o’clock, another two hours before Buffy would be home. He pulled his boots down from the newly repaired oak coffee table with a thud.

“I swear permission or no permission I’m going to dig a tunnel to the sewers from here. I’m getting tired of being trapped in the house all day every time I stay over”, he groused as he stomped down the basement steps. He might as well get started on the latest council report.

He’d cleaned up the corner Joyce had used for a study to do his own writing. Thank goodness the hard drive had been sitting above the water line when the basement flooded. Spike figured he’d surprised Buffy with how fast he had taken to word processing. For a girl born at the end of the twentieth century she was remarkably illiterate about computers.

He’d taken over Joyce’s old computer to use as his own. Knowing Buffy was unlikely to touch the computer in the basement, and that Nibblet had her own in her room had some benefits. He’d even started writing poetry again, password protected of course. That thesaurus was a gem. Not that much rhymed with Buffy except huffy and stuffy, and while those words described his beloved’s less enduring moments he didn’t figure he’d gain any bonus points by setting them to pen.

“Now what did I save those forms under?” He typed in Watcher. Nothing. Ok, Watchers Council. Nothing again. He drummed his fingers on the keyboard and typed council reports. Still nothing. He hit the browse button and a list of all the files appeared. He slowly scrolled through them. They were in alphabetical order. When he got to the J’s he paused, “Well, well, what have we here?

He clicked on the icon to open the file. Multiple subfiles appeared, each titled JJ followed by a year. “Joyce’s Journal, I wonder if Buffy knows it’s here? I doubt it, but more importantly, I wonder if she said anything about me?”

He tried to remember the date when he and Joyce first met. Not when she slammed an axe into the back of his head, but the time he had rescued Dawn from Angelus and used her to work a truce with the Slayer. Joyce had seen her oldest daughter dust a vampire up close and personal that night for the first time. Things tended to blur after the first hundred years or so, but he was fairly sure that was in1998 sometime in the spring. He quickly scrolled down to that year and settled in for a read. Surprisingly the journal did not start in January as he had been expecting. It started in June.

 

_Buffy has been gone for 3 weeks now. Her friends say she hasn’t contacted them. I’m not sure I believe them. Mr. Giles assures me that he would know if she were dead. Even though I don’t trust him, I have to believe that. If I didn’t I ‘d go crazy. I‘ve been drinking myself to sleep. It got so bad that Dawn called Linda, from our book club, to drag me to a therapist._

_Her name is Dr. Trenton. I don’t know what to say to her. I sit and stare at the pattern in the oriental rug on the floor. She says I keep too much inside, and she wants me to start keeping a journal to give my feelings an outlet. What am I supposed to say to her! That monsters are REAL, that my daughter is a VAMPIRE SLAYER. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen that man change and crumble to dust just inches from me._

_Mr. Giles has given me a crash course on what a Slayer is. I hate him. I hate him. He’s taken her away from me and changed her into something I don’t know. And now she’s gone. It’s my fault…._

 

Spike released the breath he didn’t need to hold. He hadn’t realized that Buffy had run away; actually tried to quit being a Slayer for a while. He scrolled forward a few more pages and continued to read. Most of it was boring stuff but some of it was gut wrenching. When he’d known Joyce, she never seemed to have such a hard time dealing with her daughter’s Slayer powers, but it was all here, the pain, the anxiety, the helplessness, and the need protect Buffy and Dawn from things she could barely imagine. Thankfully, there were some funny bits too. As it was it was one hell of a read.

 

_I can’t believe it. It was wonderful. It was crazy. I was sixteen again and I slept with Rupert. Oh, god. Oh, god. It felt so good. No responsibilities. No worries. Buffy and Dawn were only distant dreams._

_Isn’t that terrible of me? I didn’t care, I felt so free. I had been so angry at Buffy for playing Rupert and I against each other. On the way over to his apartment, I spied that damn box of candy that Buffy had stuck me with. I just started eating one as I drove, and suddenly, I was jamming with the radio. When I got to Rupert’s I couldn’t even remember why I was there, so I offered him a candy bar. Things got hot from there. We ate some more chocolate, smoked some weed that he had and started making out on the couch. Making out, I haven’t even thought of that term since I was in high school._

_His mouth and hands were all over me. He has wonderful hands. When he started rubbing my mound I came almost instantly. Pieces of clothing just seemed to fall off, and though we tried to make it up to his bedroom we ended up doing it on the stairs. A little bumpy all things considered, he drove into me like a stevedore. It was much better when I got to be on top. I came- twice!_

_Then Buffy walked in. Thank god we were dressed by that time. I don’t think she suspected anything…._

 

That old randy goat, he’d never realized that Ripper had shagged the Slayer’s mum. Damn, it sounded like they’d had a time of it. Shouldn’t be too surprised, Buffy had to get that wild streak from somewhere. He continued to read, but when he got to the part about them doing it on the hood of the police car he’d had to stop. It wouldn’t do for Little Bit to catch him wacking off in the basement. Taking a deep breath, he scrolled onward.

Ah! He’d spotted his name. Spike remembered that night; he’d been so torn up over Dru. He’d come looking for the Slayer to tell her he had her friends, but she hadn’t been home. Joyce had welcomed him as a friend and offered him hot chocolate with marshmallows of all things. Spike shook his head and closed his eyes; he could picture her in the kitchen as if it were yesterday. He had wondered if she had ever realized how close he had come to feeding on her. Even thought of turning her for a second or two so he could keep her forever, making hot chocolate and giving advice. Given the way things had turned out maybe he should have. Red could have ensouled her before she had even made her first kill, he rationalized. Naw, knowing Buffy, she’d have felt obligated to stake her. He had a feeling that Nibblet would have gone for it though.

 

Well, it’s been an interesting evening (please note my sarcasm). I‘ve come to the conclusion that I don’t know my oldest daughter and probably never will. I don’t know why I even try. She keeps so many secrets. I’m as about as exasperated and angry as I’ve ever been.

_First, Buffy’’s friend comes over. Spike, one she said played in a rock band, but was really a vampire. I assumed he was a good vampire since Buffy had invited him in. Hello, Rupert has made it plain that Dawn and I are not to invite any individuals we have not seen in full daylight into our home. I know this, but he was already invited._

_We were just talking about his girlfriend dumping him and drinking coco. When Buffy’s ex, Angel shows up, and tries to break in the door. Buffy charges in and slams poor Spike down on the countertop. Then she invites Angel in. The monster who tried to kill us. Who kidnapped Dawn! She said he was dead, and then he’s not dead. He’s at the door trying to get in, and he sure looked evil to me. Good, bad, and now good again. I don’t trust him._

_And Spike’s supposed to be the evil one. I thought he was rather sweet, so torn up about his girl. A hundred plus years together is nothing to sneeze at, I couldn’t even make it to 15 with Tom. Then to top it all off Buffy comes home later and bawls me out for inviting Spike in, which I did not…._

“I really missed her, she treated me like a person. I wonder what she’d say about Buffy and me now?”

He skipped the next few entries. Boring stuff about car insurance and money problems. He almost passed over the next entry too, but stopped when his eye fell on two familiar names.

_Rupert brought Buffy home from school sick today. She was doubled over, clutching her head, and begging us to make it stop. I wanted to call the ambulance, but Rupert wouldn’t let me. Buffy calmed down once we left her in her room. Rupert took me outside and explained that she had been infected by a demon she had fought the day before. That she could hear other peoples’ thoughts and that while it had started out intermittently; now she could hear them all the time and couldn’t block them out. He said he had found a cure but need help getting the ingredients and was going to get Angel._

_He told me not to worry. As if I could stop. I haven’t had a moments ease since Buffy told me what she was, what she does, and who she fights. I still don’t understand why she can’t just quit. I’ve offered to move again. She tells me, that the weirdness would just follow her. It’s part of her being born a Slayer._

_Rupert once said that all Slayers stem from a single maternal line. It’s in the blood. That means I carry the gene, or what ever. Why did it have to be one of my children who was chosen. I hate this. I think it must be a lot like having a disabled child. You feel helpless, you have few people you can talk to, and you keep wondering which instance will be their death. I can’t deal with this now._

_(later)_

_I went and checked on Buffy. This day couldn’t get any worse. She knows about what Rupert and I did that night because of the band chocolate. I tried not to think about it. I really did, but I was worrying and wondering where he was and well it just happened. I hope he gets back soon._

_(later)_

_I sent Dawn over to a friend’s to keep her away from Buffy. I was sure a 13 year old’s trivial chatter would send her around the bend if any thing would._

_(later)_

_It’s after mid-night. Rupert and Angel just left. They made Buffy drink this horrible looking blue potion, which they made up in my food processor. I will never use it again! I made Rupert take it out to the trash the moment they were finished._

_It looks like she’ll be ok. I wanted her to stay home tomorrow, but she says she has to go to school to stop someone from killing the students._

_What a night!_

 

Spike skipped ahead a few days until he caught sight of that hated name again. He knew what a hold the big poof’s memory still had on his Buffy. He wished he could kill the bastard, but that would have turned Buffy against him for sure. Maybe, Joyce would tell him something that he could use as leverage to pry, his pet away from Nancy boy’s memory. From the few things she’d said so far he hadn’t fooled her.

 

_I went to Angel’s mansion today. I was surprised by it, although I don’t know why I should have been. It’s hard to reconcile the man and the monster he’s shown himself to be. Buffy’s so obsessed by him, it scares me. She says she loves him. That she dreams of spending her life with him._

_She’s my daughter; I want her to be happy, but I don’t think she realizes what she is giving up, daylight, college, spending time with someone her own age, the possibility of children, not to mention sex. I already resent the man for taking her innocence, but once it happened he turned evil and kidnapped Dawn. I’m having a really hard time getting over it._

_I pleaded with him to leave, to let her go, to let her have a normal life. I’m not sure I made an impact. He was very hard to read. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see. I hope I did the right thing._

 

So the Slayer’s mum intervened. Damn, always thought Joyce had balls, this just proved it. Bet Buffy never knew about this. I’m not sure this is something I really want her reading. Same thing that applied to Angel applies to me too. She deserves better. I got one up on him though, no soul, no guilt. I’m here. I want her, and I’m staying.

He read on through Joyce’s commentary on Angel’s departure and Buffy’s resulting depression and tears. He found himself wishing he could shout at the long ago Buffy and tell her he wasn’t worth it.

He was addicted. He just didn’t want to stop reading. Her journals were filling in so many missing pieces for him. Opening up whole new explanations for some of Buffy’s actions and reactions. He glanced at the clock. 4:56, Buffy would be home any minute. He resaved Joyce’s work under his own password, and then shut down the computer. It would never do to have Buffy take away this treasure trove before he’d had a chance to finish reading it.

 

Chapter 2 

Where was Buffy? It was almost six o’clock by now. The late fall sun had set almost an hour ago. Dawn had come home and left for her friend’s and still no Buffy. He flipped through several more channels of garbage on the telly, wondering if he should start searching for her, when she came through the door.

“Hi honey, I’m home! Where’s Dawn?” Buffy plopped down on the couch next to him, her long hair bouncing into loose tendrils around her face.

As he pulled her close he replied, “Sleep over at her mate’s, remember. She told you about it last night. And before you ask, Red’s got class tonight.”

She pushed him away and headed toward the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, “I forgot. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had. I actually left the Magic Box around five, but I had to stop and deal with not one but four pesky vampires. She grabbed a sports drink from the refrigerator, “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

“Your monthly courses, luv”, he shouted from the living room.

Buffy returned to the room drink in hand and stared at him with a befuddled expression on her face. “My monthly courses, what?”

“Your period, pet?”

“Well, I’m not supposed to start for another couple of days, but what has that to do with anything.” She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, foot tapping impatiently.

 

“I didn’t mean to phrase it as a question, luv. You have started. That’s why all the vamps were after you.”

Buffy turned and went up the stairs two at a time. A few minutes later she came down more slowly. “How did you know?”, she said suspiciously as she sat back down on the couch next to him.

He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. “Your smell, Luv. It’s like ambrosia right now. I’m getting fangy just thinking of it.” He gave her a seductive leer and inhaled deeply. Then almost fell off the couch as Buffy shoved him away hard.

“Ugh! That’s disgusting!”

He recaptured her, saying, “No its not. It’s just a part of you being a Slayer and me a vampire. That’s just how it works. Pheromones, that’s all. Didn’t you and the big poof ever discuss this? You were together long enough.”

Buffy shook her head, still half-heartedly struggling to get away from him.

“Well, what about Giles, surely he said something. Right now, luv, you’re like a blood lure, the kind they use to bait the bears with at pit fights back in London.”

Buffy looked thoughtful like she was trying to remember. “Merrick said something once about me being able to tell when evil was near when ever I felt like I had cramps.”

“Merrick?”

“My first watcher.”

“Blimey, never knew you’d had any other Watcher then Giles. What happened to him?”

“Same old story, master vampire wants to take over a high school and kill a Slayer. I screwed up and he got killed. End of story.”

“I doubt that’s all of it, come on tell Big Bad ”.

“Seriously, there’s really not much story there. I was only fifteen at the time, and basically untrained. I had only come to accept I was the Slayer about two weeks before it all went down. The only thing I had on my mind was cheerleading, and who would be the next homecoming queen.” She laughed bitterly. “When things went down, my inexperience cost Merrick life. I won in the end, but I cried as the gym burned down. The worst of it was that I was crying because I was relieved. With him gone, I thought I was done with it. ”

Buffy began kissing him, and running her hands up and down his chest. About as clear a sign as a man could get that she wanted to change the subject. Not that he minded, but one of these days they were going to have to have a serious conversation about using sex to avoid dealing with things. They both tended to do it. Gods above and below knew that sex was the strongest bond going in this relationship.

Her smell was driving him mad. He could just about feel all those lovely little red corpuscles flowing beneath his lips as he kissed her neck. He felt himself start to vamp out and pushed her so hard that she flew off the couch, knocking her back into the wall. He shook his head to clear it and morphed back into his regular features.

Buffy looked confused and wary, but she didn’t attack. She waited; looking to him for a clue as to how all this was going to go down.

He couldn’t meet her eyes. “Buffy, luv, the demon’s a bit too close to the surface for us to play right now. What with that siren’s call of your blood and all.” He rushed onward. “ We both know that you’re not protected by the chip anymore, pet. It wouldn’t be safe.”

Buffy nodded in acceptance. “Well, why don’t we go patrol, fighting is almost as good as sex. God, did I just sound like Faith, or what? I swear, I think she left a little bit behind when we exchanged bodies.” She smiled and held up her arm so that he could help her off the floor.

***

After patrolling they parted ways in front of his crypt. He didn’t even chance a good night kiss although he was tempted. He’d let himself completely vamp during the fighting and giving his demon full rein, but it still wasn’t enough to sate the blood lust.

He stayed at his crypt a while longer, had some blood, and read a few pages from the latest book he had nicked from the library, but he just couldn’t settle down. What he was reading wasn’t near as interesting as Joyce’s journal. “Buffy will be asleep by now”, he said to himself. “I could just sneak down to the basement. She wouldn’t ever need to know.”

  
_Buffy’s finally introduced me to her latest young man. He was so nice and polite. He brought me flowers. He held the door open for her. Buffy says he’s a teacher’s assistant over at the university, and I think he must also be in the reserves. He was wearing camouflage._

_Finally a normal boyfriend, I had just about given up hope. He’s invited her on a picnic. Thank god, daylight. Buffy says he’s doing the cooking. Handsome and domesticated could he get any better?_

_I was worried that she was changing since she started college, but maybe it’s for the better. I know she can’t stop slaying, but maybe she’ll come to treat it as a job not a life style choice. I just want her to have a normal life. A husband, children, a little time in the sun, is that too much to ask for my daughter?_

_I have to quit now I feel another one of those headaches coming on. Maybe I need to get my eyes checked._

 

Oh gods, now Joyce was nattering on about how wonderful the great captain white bread was. Mister wonderful was just so good to your little girl; he went off and left her when she needed him the most. Just be thankful Big Bad was around to pick up the pieces.

He hadn’t realized how tightly he was holding the mug until the handle broke off spilling the hot coffee down front of his leg. He danced around in frustration. At least it wasn’t blood; he would have hated to clean up that mess.

He scrolled onward and spotted his name.

 

_Dawn’s been in trouble at school again. I thought I had been through all this once already. I’m not sure what to do. I’ve got an appointment to talk to her teachers tomorrow. Just thinking about it is giving me another terrible headache._

_Only one other interesting thing happened today. Spike stopped by this evening. I could tell he was looking for Buffy, but she wasn’t home. He’s so charming. He had Dawn and I in stitches with his stories. I can tell Dawn has a crush on him. I hope to God that I am not facing another Angel situation._

 

He noticed that Joyce’s references to headaches were coming more frequently. He wished they had caught it earlier. He knew what was coming next, and he dreaded reading it. He turned off the monitor and sat in the dark. It had been such a black time. Finding out Dawn was the key, Buffy’s rejection, Joyce’s death, and finally Buffy’s death. Things had just snowballed, getting darker and darker. He supposed he should have reveled in it. He was after all a creature of darkness, but the memory just made him achy and sad.

He remembered the last few times he had seen Joyce. He had taken to stopping by when he knew Buffy wouldn’t be home, just to check on her. She wouldn’t let him in after the Wiccas’ had done their spell, but she’d come out and sit on the porch in the dark and talk to him. She’d been kindness itself, but she hadn’t lent any false hopes to his feelings toward her daughter. He couldn’t deal with it all right now; so he decided to skip all that and just read the ending.

Flipping the monitor back on he selected the very last file.

 

_I’ve survived! I’m back home. It feels so weird. I felt like I had made my peace and now I have to start living again. Buffy and Dawn have been tip toeing around me. I’m happy and grateful, but the girls being this good is kind of disorienting._

_I tried to get a hold of Tom, but he’s still among the missing in Spain. I am glad I didn’t die. What would have happened to my babies? I was rereading the letters I wrote to them. I wonder if I should give them to them anyway. No, I guess not. That would just be too morbid._

_I start back to work on Monday at the gallery. It will be so good to be back. Sarah was telling me about the new dealer. She says he would be perfect for me. It’s so odd to think of having a future, of being able to pursue romance._

 

Bloody hell, look at him; blubbering like a tike. Spike sniffed and wiped the moisture from his eyes. The gods shouldn’t trick people like that. She was so happy. She’d thought she’d had years ahead of her. He wondered where the letters were. The girls would want them if he could find them.

He went back about three weeks; scanning each section, but he could find no mention of them. He closed the window and went to the file menu. Clicking on that brought a list of all the documents contained in the computer. He scrolled through them one by one. Finally, he found them. They were simply saved as Buffy and Dawn.

 

 

_My Dearest Dawn, My Baby,_

_If you are reading this I probably did not survive the surgery. Even though I am gone, I want you to know that you are, and always will be loved._

_I wish I could take away the knowledge that you are the Key. I know that as the Key you are special to the world, the way Buffy as the Slayer is special to the world. But you are special in your own right not because of what you are, but because of who you are, Dawn my daughter._

_I don’t want you to ever think that you shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be part of this family. The monks made my life so immeasurably better when they sent you to me. You have been my ally and my support through countless trials. I can remember holding you as a baby. I remember the first tooth you lost and swallowed. I remember giving you that horrible home perm in 5th grade. I remember our weekly book club meetings. And I remember how you became the adult when your sister ran away and got me help when I needed it. I know you think those memories aren’t real, but to me they are realer then real. I refuse to believe that anyone could create those feelings in me. You are my daughter in every sense of the word, and I love you._

_I have one request. Please stay with your sister. I fear you maybe the only thing left, now that I am gone, that will ground her to this world and pull her out of the darkness she inhabits._

_I will always love and watch over you. Mom_

 

_Dearest Buffy;_

_If you are reading this letter I did not survive the surgery. I have left copies of my will and other important paperwork with Rupert. He has promised to look after the two of you until your father can be located._

_I hope you know by now how proud I am of you. Even though most people will never know it, you are a hero. You will always be one to me. Unhappily, Heroes can’t take the easy way out; they have to stay strong and fight for the good of all. I wish I could make it easier on you._

_I hope, in a way, that you will be a little more selfish in the future. Take a little more for yourself. I saw how your being the Slayer drove Riley away. I pray that your duty to the world doesn’t prevent you from having a normal life. You may have to fight the forces of darkness, but you don’t belong in that world. You belong in the sunlight, surrounded by family and friends._

_You’ve had more then your fair share of being abandoned by those you love. I hope my death will not add another layer to the wall I see you building around your heart. I don’t know if you will accept my advice, but look outside your circle when you next chose to love. When all you consort with is demons and lowlifes it is too easy to fall in love with one. But you are worthy of so much more then a love of convenience. And demons no matter how charming they are, or how much they profess to love you, are and always will be demons._

_I have one request. Please protect your sister and watch after her. Don’t let your father take her away from you._

_You will always be my daughter first and foremost. I love you with all my heart. Mom_

 

He sat there sick and shaken. He didn’t know what to do. He felt as if Joyce had reached from the grave and driven a stake right threw his heart. He had fought so hard to win Buffy’s love, and to make her realize that she had feelings toward him too. He needed Buffy to believe that he changed, not to get her to love him, but because he loved her and wanted to do what was right.

 

Chapter 3 

He sat in the chair, booted feet on the sill, looking through the semi-opaque curtains at the sunrise. It had been so long since he had seen one. He craved the light. He didn’t understand why, or why he risked himself so often to experience the daylight world. He knew though that the craving was part of his attraction to Buffy. For him she was light personified. He speculated that his longing for light and Buffy’s attraction to the dark brought them into some kind of balance. His thoughts continued slide toward unwanted conclusions and he realized how hard it would be to rest at the fulcrum of balance. He wondered which way they would fall when their balancing act ended.

He watched Buffy as she lay asleep on the bed next to him. How he loved watching her sleep; the way her golden hair spread across the pillow, the curve of her tanned bare shoulder, and the strawberry pink bow of her lips. Gods, she was beautiful and so strong. He wondered if he could survive if anything happened to her again. He could picture himself walking into the sunlight carrying her dead body, melodramatic sap that he was.

Buffy began to thrash and moan on the bed, fighting with the bedcovers, obviously in the throws of a terrible dream. Spike wondered if he should wake her up or just let it run its course? He heard the cloth ripping and reached over and grabbed Buffy’s arms by the wrists to stop her from doing any more damage to the sheets.

“Buffy”, he said shaking her gently. “Buffy come on luv, wake up.”

He was afraid to let go of her hands; he could see a stake lying on the bedside table and thought he better get rid of it if he didn’t want to wind up a big pile of dust. He doubted if she would be too coherent when she finally awoke. He knocked the table hard with his shoulder and the stake rolled off and under the bed. “Out of site, out of mind”, he thought. “Come on, pet, wake up!” He shook her a little harder.

This time, it worked.

Buffy lay gasping for air. Tears filled her eyes as she saw him. “Spike? What? Where am…”

He gazed into her eyes, her soul. “Dreaming about clawing you way out of the coffin again, pet?” Of it’s own volition, his hand reached out and smoothed the hair away from her face.

“How did you know?” Her hands clutched convulsively on top of the bedclothes. Her teeth were chattering as if she had been bathed in ice.

“Your hand motions, and the fact that I still have ‘em myself occasionally.” Spike moved away from her, backing to the door. He didn’t want her to think he was taking advantage, not that he wouldn’t mind you, but he just didn’t want it to be obvious.

Buffy stopped him with a glance. She held out an arm beckoning him, the other clasped the torn sheet to her breasts. “Spike, hold me. I’m so cold.”

He was at her side instantly pulling her to his chest. He buried his face in her hair inhaling her enticing smell. He could feel himself wanting to vamp out and taste her blood. He needed to concentrate on something repetitive. Slowly he started counting backwards from a hundred in French. As long as he could keep focused on the numbers he could hold it together. He had just gotten to 60 and was trying to remember how to say 59 when he felt her shaking ease and she relaxed into his embrace. And then slowly, inevitably she pulled away.

Buffy looked down at the tattered ribbons in her hands. “Damn, that’s the third set of sheets since I’ve been back. Spike, what are you doing here?” It had just registered that he was in her bedroom and he wasn’t supposed to be here. She thought they had agreed that it set a bad example for Dawn.

He pushed himself up so that he was sitting with his back against the headboard; his movement caused Buffy to roll, her head coming to rest on his thigh. He had moved away from the immediacy of her smell, but this position was raising a whole other set of thoughts. He struggled to play it cool. “Just watching you sleep, luv. Got caught out by the sun and it was closer here then to the crypt.” He turned his face toward the curtained window staring at it as if he could see the sunrise. He paused and sighed, “ I found something I think you need to see.”

The bedroom door opened making them both jump.

“Buffy, can I borrow your silver hoops”, said Dawn as she entered without knocking. Her mouth opened in a silent oh as she caught sight of the two of them on the bed and then moved to a smirk. “Hi, Spike.”

“Morning, platelet”. He got up. His hands raised defensively in front of him; he slowly stood to show her that he at least was fully dressed. He hoped she couldn’t tell how tight the front of his jeans were.

He went downstairs with Dawn, presumably to help put together a Saturday morning brunch.

Janice was waiting for Dawn the kitchen drinking orange juice and eating dried cereal out of the box by the handful. “Did you get the earrings?”

“Oops! Got distracted.” She waves Spike on into the kitchen. “This is Spike, my sister’s…” She looked at Janice, then at Spike and her mind went blank. She started over. “This is Spike.”

Spike gave her a dirty look, got a mug out of the cabinet, and poured himself some coffee.

Dawn watched him quizzically, “You’ve been here for a while haven’t you?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“Nothing, I just noticed the coffee was already made. Buffy usual does it after she gets up. She’s not up, ergo you made the coffee.”

Little bint was too observant for her own good. Spike decided to change the subject. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and get me some cereal before your mate eats it all up.” He gave Janice a smile to take any sting out of his words.

“Sure, what kind would you like? Janice has the granola, I’ve got Kix, and I think Buffy has some bran something or other.” Dawn got the feeling something was up but she knew Spike well enough that he wouldn’t divulge anything while outsiders were around.

He made a face. “Just don’t give me Buffy’s. What she eats looks like dog kibble. Don’t you have any fruity bits?”

Buffy came in the room behind him, “I eat dog kibble do I?” She elbowed him in the ribs as she went around to the other side of the bar. “People who live in glass houses should not comment on other people’s eating habits.”

“So what did you girls have planned for today?” Buffy asked, as she looked between the two girls.

Janice answered, “My mom’s driving us to the mall and we’re planning on shopping and catching Harry Potter.”

Spike looked Dawn straight in the eye, and said significantly, “Remember, you need be home early so that you can help your sister.”

Dawn nodded, “Yeah, I need to be home by at least…five?”

“Three”, said Spike.

“Boy, if that’s all the time we’ve got we’d better get home and get my mom moving. The mall will be open in fifteen minutes.” Janice started tugging Dawn toward the back door.

“Bye, guys.” Dawn waved as she left with her friend.

“So what’s the big?” Buffy looked at him questioningly as she poured herself some coffee.

He pulled the printed sheets from his back pocket and gave the first to Buffy. “This one’s Dawn’s”, he stated, tucking it back into place.

He explained what he had found and where he had found it. Then giving her instructions on how to open the files he left her in the basement. He quickly ascended the steps to the second floor and tucked the letter under Dawn’s door.

Then he left. He knew it was dangerous with the sun up, but he had snuck in and out of the Summers’ home often enough before the Wiccas exiled him to know it could be done. He was sure the sisters would need some time alone together after they read Joyce’s last words.

Chapter 4 

The sun was setting. Spike stood at the door of his crypt trying to decide whether to contact Buffy or to patrol on his own. He was ready for a fight. Things were just too new with Buffy to be certain of her reaction, and the anxiety of not knowing put his teeth on edge. He was ready to kill anything that got in his path. Twist heads clean off. He decided to go it alone. He wanted to let his demon have full rein tonight to get rid of some of the frustration that he was feeling.

It didn’t take long to find some trouble either. He spied a couple in the park. The vamp had the women pushed up against the slide’s ladder. He smelled the hot metallic scent of fresh blood and knew it might already be too late for her.

His game face fully in place, he swung the younger dark haired vamp away from its prey, knocking him to the ground. The woman was still alive, but just stood there screaming. He actually had to tell her to run.

“Hey, man what’s with you? That was my dinner. Go find you own food”, said the young vamp with confused bravado.

Spike just looked at him for a moment, it was a waste even killing this one. He was so pathetic. Gods, why had someone even turned this puppy? Even fanged the get had pimples.

The vamp launched himself from the ground toward Spike slamming himself directly on to the stake held in Spike’s waiting hand and turned to dust. “That was absolutely no fun, mate. I would have thought you would have gone a bit longer and made it worth my while.”

At that moment Spike was hit from behind and when flying in to a tombstone. A strident, angry female voice grated on his ears a he rolled and came up to face this new opponent.

“You bully! What did you do to Mike?”

Lord save him from female vampires, they were so damn possessive about their men. He really seemed to have some kind of mental block about slaying them, not that he wouldn’t if he had to, but it wasn’t the kind of fun he liked. Must be the gallant in him he guessed. He blocked her swing, counter punched, and then blocked again.

Buffy joined him in the fight, seeming to come from nowhere. Launching herself at the demon with a sidekick. She followed with stake to the heart. Quick and efficient, just like she liked it. She wiped the dust from her hands.

“Buffy, heads up, we’ve got company”, said Spike, nodding at the vampires approaching. Six vampires, all male, and calling out for the Slayer’s blood had surrounded them.

Spike automatically turned so that he was at Buffy’s back taking up a defensive stance, a move that they had perfected in their long hours of patrolling since she’d been back. They didn’t even need words anymore; they had gotten so good at reading each other’s body language. He reveled in that thought. He watched as the vampires divided up, three to one, and the rumble began.

“Hun?” He said over his shoulder as he delivered a punch to the jaw of one of the vamps. “I know you’ve been back a while now, but by any chance…” He ducked under the first, and used a low sidekick to take out the knee of the second vamp. He finished his sentence and staked the one on the ground, “is this the first period you’ve had since you’ve been back?”

Buffy was involved with her own battle. She’d already taken down one vamp with a quick reverse stake to the chest as the vamp tried to blindside her by coming in low on her right. Thank gods for Slayer enhanced peripheral vision. She sent a flying kick to the chest of the current vamp sending him sprawling across the end of the teeter-totter. The other end bounced up catching her third dance partner just under the chin. The vamp flew back and staked himself on a low tree branch. “All right, two for one!”

She turned to help Spike with the remaining two. “I never was really regular,” she answered. “I just figured my system was all messed up because of coming back and all”.

“Just didn’t remember encountering this before”, He stated simply.

He heard Buffy give a sharp yelp, and twisted to view what she had seen coming out of the trees.

It was a Chaos demon. This one was huge, at least seven feet tall with a rack of slimy antlers adding another foot or so. Spike had wanted to kill a Chaos demon ever since that time in Brazil when Dru had hitched up with one.

This one was heading straight toward Buffy like a stag in rut. Spike stepped between them, using his duster as a matador’s cape. “Toro, Toro” he called waving the jacket back and forth. The beast veered toward him antlers lowered to gore him. Spike stepped to the side at the last possible moment. The jacket tangled in the beast’s horns covered the demon’s face blinding him. Spike quickly grabbed an antler through the leather and brought it down across his knee. The demon bellowed in pain as the horn audibly cracked. Rearing in agony the demon shook the jacket loose. As soon as it had its head free it headed straight for Buffy. It lowered its head and charged.

Buffy grabbed the one remaining horn and the stump of the other in her two hands and flipped up and over the beast like one of the ancient Greek bull dancers. Unfortunately because of all the slime it didn’t turn out as graceful as she had pictured. She slid down it’s back, but continued to hold on to its antlers. Bringing its head back to an impossible angle she heard it’s spine crack and she ended up on the ground.

Spike held out his hand to give Buffy a lift up, and then went over and picked up his duster. “Bloody hell, I wonder what the cleaning bill will be for leather”, he asked in disgust?

 

Chapter 5 

They ended up back in front of Spike’s crypt. Buffy was covered in slime from the demon’s antlers. She pushed past him at the door and went on down below. “Dibs on the shower”, she said as she climbed down the ladder.

Buffy stood in the shower; the water streaming down over her slender back. She rested her forehead on the tile in front of her. She realized she was probably using up all the hot water, but she needed time to think. She had a decision to make, and she needed to know if her Mom was wrong or right. Was this just a love of convenience, or was this something that could last.

She came out wrapped in his old bathrobe, the sleeves rolled up to accommodate her petite frame. She looked so small and frail. Spike knew it for an illusion, but it was one that touched him. Made him feel all manly and protective. Except what she needed right now was protection from him. The fighting had done nothing to ease the hunger; in fact he wanted her now more then ever. He wondered how he could get her to go home without her getting bent out of shape or eroding his already shaky resolve any further.

She turned towards him, stopping approximately an arm’s length away, and looked into his eyes. “You always give me the truth. Of course most of the time you’re trying to rub my nose in it. My turn now.”

“Mom wanted a normal daughter. She didn’t get it. I’m the Slayer, the Chosen One. I’m never going to be normal. I’ve given up those daydreams. I’ve grown up, changed. I’m looking for a partner. He needs to be someone I don’t have to hide things from. He’s going to have to accept the whole package, weirdness, slayer powers, and all; cause I’m tired of pulling my punches to save male egos. An added bonus would be someone to watch my back. That pretty much describes you doesn’t it? Only one problem, Mom was right. I don’t know if I can accept you because you’re a demon.”

His thoughts raced. He could hardly hear what she said for the roaring in his ears. He knew she was going to leave him. She’d been looking for an excuse ever since they got together. “I never denied it”, he said his voice filled with anger.

“No, you were always in my face with it. I could never forget or pretend”. She smiled and stepped closer to him.

Her smile drained the anger from him. He felt confused and uncertain about what response she expected from him.

“I’m different now, Spike. I came back different. Maybe that’s given me a new perspective on things, but I need to trust you. You said you made a choice. It’s one I’m going to have to trust you to keep.”

She stepped back from him a little and dropped the robe from her shoulders. It’s dark blue hem draped in a puddle around her feet. She stood there before him like a statue of Venus De Milo. He could literally feel the beat of her heart from where she was standing. Crimson red blood, her blood, trickled in rivulets down her thigh pooling in the vulnerable indention of her knee before meandering down her calf.

“Buffy, luv, you don’t realize what you’re doing. You’ve got a death wish. I won’t be part of it.” Shocked and suddenly apprehensive he backed away, tripping over a piece of furniture in his haste.

Her eyes twinkled mischievously, “Spike, want to dance? She did a sweep kick, knocking his legs from under him.

He rolled, coming up in a defensive stance. “So you want Big Bad to come out to play, well all right.” He caught her by the shoulders and threw her across the room. “You’ve been trying to get yourself killed ever since you came back. Just get this straight, Slayer. We are not sodding Romeo and Juliet. One of us is going to come out the winner here. Either you’re going to stake me or I’ll drain you dry.” His voice shook with anger and despair even as he said the words.

He caught the collar of the robe and shook her banging her head against the wall. “You’re putting both our lives on the line with this little test of yours, and I don’t like being manipulated.”

She dropped and used the momentum to pull him up and over slamming him against the wall in turn. She twisted coming to rest on her hands and knees. The front of the robe gapped open giving him a shadowy glimpse of her heaving breasts. “It comes down to this, either I can trust you totally or I can’t, but I need to know. I need to figure out whether I can trust you, all of you, man and demon. I think I can, but neither of us knows for sure.” She rose and delivered a quick jab toward his face, which he blocked. She followed with a combination of punches to his solar plexus spinning him back on to the bed.

He knew what she wanted. He stopped fighting it and gave in to the torrid of emotions. Rage, despair, and hunger drove him. He warred within himself; it couldn’t end this way. “I love you.”

His fangs grazed her inner thigh. She must be crazy, the femoral artery was right there, he could drain her dry in seconds. She had wanted this, but she was starting to wig at being so vulnerable. She struggled with the urge to fight. One of her legs was over his shoulder, the other pinned beneath his weight. This was really going to be an awkward position to fight from if he did lose it and try to kill her. She tried to think of a counter move, but gave up as waves of sensation overwhelmed her. She gave a moan of pure animalistic pleasure as his tongue caressed the sensitive skin.

“Buffy?” Then touching her face gently he gazed into her eyes, seeking an answer to his unspoken question.

His eyes were gold, the demon still ascendant.

She smiled and drew him down to her lips. He had his answer. She accepted him, man and demon.

Buffy reached up, pulling him down to her. Kissing him. She tasted her own blood, and she felt his fangs, and it was ok. No, it was more then ok. It was exciting. They moved into the rhythm of the eternal dance between man and woman, and for the first time since she’d come back she felt complete and whole. Using her legs she pulled him deeper inside her womb. She wished they could stay like that forever. No yesterdays, no tomorrows, just now.

When she awoke some time later she realized her arm was asleep and that Spike had her pinned to where she couldn’t move without a struggle. She could tell he was still asleep. His body, which was usually restless, was quiet and still. She looked around the room. Who knew epiphanies could be so messy? She had smears of dried blood on her stomach and thighs. She wiggled around until they were face to face. Eesh! He even had some of her blood in his hair. The streak made him look even more punk then usual. She rolled her eyes.

Spike woke feeling a little dizzy and sort of off. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason. He shook his head to clear it and realized that Buffy was in his arms clasped against his chest. “Morning, Sunshine”, he said squeezing her until her ribs popped and kissing her shoulder. “Look at this place. Reminds me of that portrait “Massacre of the Innocents.”

He was right, there was blood everywhere. Looking past him she could see a bloody handprint on the wall above the bed. And from the size of it, it was probably hers. “ Spike? Do you remember how my handprint got on the wall?”

“Can’t say that I do, pet.” He looked over his shoulder at the print. Turning his head had been a mistake; a wave of nausea hit him. Must have been all that rich blood after having done for so long without, but there was no way in hell that he was going to tell her that she had given him a world class case of indigestion. He took her hand and kissed her palm.

Buffy was still looking at the offending print. “We’ll have to clean it off.”

“I bloody well should say not! I think I’ll stick a frame around it and keep it for a souvenir.” He shook his head and regretted it immediately. The room swam in circles.

Buffy sighed and let it go. She couldn’t quite tell if he was serious or not. She could always wash it off later. “I think the sheets are totaled”, she said moving on to a safer topic.

“Naw, you don’t get to be a vampire as old as I am without learning a few tricks to getting blood out of fabric”, Spike answered dismissively.

Buffy giggled, and then she started laughing. She buried her head into his shoulder still chortling.

“Why the laugh track, luv?” He moved to where he was lying flat on his back. That seemed to ease the dizziness some.

“I was just picturing you in one of those coin operated laundry mats.” She smiled into his face, propping herself up on his chest. “Well, I’m going to take a shower.” She gave him a seductive look as she climbed out of bed. Her beautiful derriere swished enticingly as she stepped down. She looked over her shoulder and gave him one of those Mona Lisa smiles of hers, “Want to join me?”

“In a minute, pet. You go ahead and get started. I want to rest for a few more minutes. You’ve worn me out, Slayer.” Spike closed his eyes for a few minutes, but opened them again when he heard the water come on. Maybe if he was up and dressed when she came back she wouldn’t push for more than he could deliver right now.

He levered himself up from the bed and grabbed his pants from the chair and started dragging them up his legs. The room was swinging in ever widening circles. He couldn’t understand why this was happening. He’d never had this sort of reaction to human blood before. Must be the chip. The world was growing fuzzier, but he knew something wasn’t right with that logic. He’d had blood, human blood, since the chip, that girl that Dru had killed for him. Then it came to him in a blinding flash, not human. The sodding chip identified Buffy as not human.

He called out hoping he could be heard above the water. “Buffy, your change….”, was as far as he got. He doubled over in agony, and passed out on the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Buffy was washing her hair for the second time. She wondered if Spike was going to join her. He was probably going to leave that dried blood in his hair for eternity just to rub her nose in it. She waited another couple minutes and turned the water off and stepped from the shower. She went over to the sink. It was one of those industrial ones, a huge stainless steal model used for washing dishes and rinsing mops. Spike had put a mirror over it as a gift to her after the first time she had stayed over. She looked at her watch as she strapped it on her wrist. 4:45AM. She’d have to hurry if she was going to get home before Dawn got up. She drew a comb through her wet hair, ouching at the tangles. She wondered what she would look like with it short. She wrapped the towel tightly around her torso, and wandered out in search of her clothing.

She saw Spike crumpled on the floor, and panicked. “Spike, Spike, what’s wrong?” She didn’t get a response. She crouched low assuming a fighting stance and scanned the environment for the unseen assailant. No one.

She went up to him, said his name, and shook him. No response. He felt cold and lifeless. She was starting to panic, her breath coming in short ragged gasps. She realized she was beginning to hyperventilate and worked to control her breathing before she passed out. This was just too much like finding her mom. She needed to focus. She kept repeating, “ He is a vampire, he is supposed to be cold. Every time she said it the other side of her mind chimed in with, “ but not lifeless.”

She dug her cellphone out of her jacket pocket, but now that she had it in her hands she wasn’t sure whom to call. She wanted Will. She had a feeling this was magic related, but if she called now she’d wake up Dawn. Besides she wasn’t sure about asking Willow to use her powers. Will had been more responsible lately about trying to do things the mundane way since the accident with Dawn, but she was hanging on by a thread. It was as if magic had seeped into her veins making her a mojo junkie. To bad there was no twelve-step program for the ethical use of magic. So she was going it alone, cold turkey. It seemed almost cruel to ask her since she was working so hard to stay on the straight and narrow.

That left Anya, Xander, and Tara. She knew she didn’t want to call Xander yet. She just couldn’t deal with him knowing the background of this little disaster. So that kinda left Anya out too unless she waited until the Magic Box opened and call her at work. She finally decided to call Tara. Maybe she could figure out what was wrong; even if she couldn’t fix it.

Tara answered with a sleepy, “hu hu hello.” Her stutter always grew worse when she was tired or stressed.

“Tara, it’s Buffy.”

“Buffy, is there something wwwrong with Willow?” Tara could feel her heart constrict.

“Nothing is wrong with Willow… other than that magic addiction thingy”, she paused. “Tara, I have a problem. I think its magic related, and I don’t want to ask Will. Will you help me? I need you to come to Spike’s crypt.”

Tara felt honored and a little frightened. The types of things Buffy ran into required big magics that were out of her league, but she wasn’t going to let down a friend in need. “Sure Buffy. Ah, how do I get there?”

“Spikes crypt is in the north corner of the cemetery. The name on the front is Van Durham.”

“I meant the cemetery. The buses aren’t running this early, and my car is in the shop.”

Damn, I’ll have to call him after all, she thought. “Don’t worry. Sit tight and I’ll call Xander and he’ll pick you up in a few minutes.” Buffy punched in the number.

“Harris here”, he said, his voice all gravelly with sleep.

“Since when do you go by Harris?” Buffy asked in surprise.

“Buffy? Do you know what time it is? I was expecting it to be work. Is everything ok?”

“No everything is not ok”, said Buffy in a short sharp voice. “Can you pick up Tara and bring her to Spike’s crypt? I forgot about you job, if you can’t it’s ok. She can find some other way to get here.”

“Don’t worry about my job. It is pouring rain outside. That’s why I was expecting work, canceling. What’s up?”

“I don’t have time to talk about it right now. My cellphone batteries are going out. I’ll tell you about it when you get here.” She so wanted to postpone discussing Spike with Xander until the last minute.

Buffy returned to where Spike was, still no movement. Shouldn’t leave him lying on the floor, she thought. Removing all the telltale signs of their trysting, she stripped the bed and bundled everything in an old duffel bag of Spike’s and set it behind the ladder. Then she got out another set of sheets from the trunk at the foot of the bed. When she was finished she laid Spike carefully on top of them and gently washed his face. She brushed his hair to remove the last traces of dried blood.

She stroked his face and laid a hand on his still chest. She couldn’t help but wonder why these things always happen to her. She moaned, “ I should know better! Something always goes wrong when I have sex.” She curled up on the bed next to Spike and cried Eventually the tears slowed to hiccups. Her attack of self-pity over with, she knew she needed to get dressed to meet her friends.

 

***

 

“So let me get this straight. You and the Big Waste of Space did the wild thing and now he’s deader then he usually is. Does this strike anyone else as a little deja vu? Hello! Same song, second verse. Buffy, what did you think you were doing? Haven’t you learned anything after all this time? You don’t sleep with the undead!” Xander paced and stamped across the crypt. He really, really wanted to hit something.

Buffy looked at her three friends, Xander having brought Anya too. She was sitting in Spike’s chair, her knees drawn up to her chin, her long golden hair shielding her face. Her voice was flat and drained of all emotion. “Yes, that pretty much sums it up.”

Tara spoke up. “I don’t think Buffy needs anymore grief right now. She called us because she needs our help, not to be yelled at.”

Buffy looked at Tara gratefully. She hoped Tara and Will would get back together, she had such a big heart.

They gathered around the bed, looking at Spike. He hadn’t moved.

“Buffy, maybe he’s really dead. You gave him that one moment of happiness and he went on to his final reward”, said Xander in his snarkiest voice.

Buffy gave him a look that would have sent a hundred demons running in fear, but since Xander was confident that she wouldn’t actually slay him, he held his ground.

“Wrong boyfriend, that was Angel”, said Anya oblivious to the undertones as usual. “Besides vampires turn to dust when they die.”

“Buffy said he was fine when she went to t-t-take a shower. So what ever happened, happened later while she was gone”, said Tara, trying to defuse the situation. “Buffy, I can t-t-try to cast a spell to r-r-reveal traces of magical energy. Then we should be able to follow it to its source.”

“I know you don’t want to listen to me right now, but before Tara starts messing with magic, I think we ought to chain Spike up. Given the condition your last demonic love came back in it’s better to be safe then sorry”, stated Xander bluntly.

“Fine, we’ll have to find something to use”, Buffy started to look around the room. “Lets just get on with it.”

Xander went over to the head of the bed and started fishing around beneath it. “Spike has got chains and manacles under here.”

All three girls looked at him suspiciously. Finally Buffy asked what they all had been thinking. “And just how did you know that?”

“Oh, don’t even go there. I helped him move the mattress in after he moved out of my folk’s basement. The manacles were there when we set the frame up”, replied Xander defensively. He fished the chains out and locked one on each of Spike’s wrists.

Tara began to chant, a silvery mist seemed to rise up from the floor. It coalesced around her feet and streamed out from her hands. The mist began to divide and flow away from its maker. A large pool of the stuff settled over Spike, and began to sink into him. Two smaller clouds settled, one low on Buffy’s stomach and one on the forgotten handprint on the wall. A fourth settled unnoticed on the bag of dirty laundry under the ladder.

Xander went up to the handprint on the wall, rubbing his fingers over it and sniffing them. “I think its blood.” His eyes narrowed. He looked at his fingers, now covered in the silvery mist, and then at where the silver had collected on Buffy. He turned and grabbed her by the shoulders, hard. His construction roughened fingers dug into her flesh as he shook her. “Tell me! Tell me you didn’t do what I think you did!”

Buffy was so shocked she didn’t even try to push him away. She stared at him, silent tears coursed down her face. “It was a test. A stupid test.”

Tara stepped up and pulled Buffy away from Xander’s hands.

Tara eased back from Xander until both girls were sitting on the edge of the bed. Tara held Buffy’s hand offering her some moral support. “A test and a gift, I think. Don’t worry Buffy, we will figure this out.”

“Yes, that makes sense, a gift. He’s chipped. There’s not much of a test in letting him feed if he can’t kill you”, added Anya as she processed the information.

Xander had crossed cavern, moving into the shadows. He had to get away. He couldn’t understand how Buffy had fallen for Spike out of all the creatures on god’s green earth. Hell, he knew the guy had changed, but it was all the chip. How could she have believed him? Believed something that artificial, that unreal.

“He can now, or he could”, Buffy told Anya and Tara her voice quavering a little. “He promised. He said he’d made a choice. Said he loved me. Now this happened.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand.

“How? When?” The chip wasn’t working; Xander could hardly force his mind around it. “How long have we all been in danger”, he asked in accusation?

“You haven’t, I have, and since I came back.” Her eyes were hard and her voice was filled with hate. “Coming back changed me, made me a little less human.” She almost spit the words out. “Spike found out his chip didn’t go off, that he could hurt me. Only me. Then he chose. He chose to love me instead.” Her chin rose in defiance.

 

Chapter 6 

Spike was dreaming, at least he thought he was. “Somehow I don’t think I’m in Kansas, or OZ either for that matter.” The sky was angry and red, and the land was barren desert as far as the he could see. Beating down on his body, the sun shown like a great malevolent eye in the sky. It was hot, but he hadn’t gone up in flames. He could feel the perspiration beading up and rolling down his back. He looked at his forearms. A fine mist of red dots was forming on them. He was sweating blood.

He wondered where this place was, and how he had gotten there. He knew he needed be someplace else, but couldn’t remember why.

A woman with ebony skin appeared before him. Her tangled hair was covered in mud and blood. She was neither old nor young, but he could see the strength of her body. Her muscles, well defined, rippled and slid below skin so dark that it seemed to absorb the vermilion glow of the sun. Her only clothing was the tattered bandage wrapped around her torso.

“You smell, Vampire.” She circled sniffing at him. “You smell of one of my daughters.”

Her voice was harsh and guttural, but he didn’t so much hear it as feel it grate along his bones. The sound was ancient, primal. Instinctively he feared her, as his kind had always feared her. She was death; his death, and he knew it.

“Goddess.” He knew the minute he said it he had gotten the title correct. He knew he had dealt with a goddess before, a hell bitch. Comparing her to this one was like..? Well he couldn’t think of a good comparison. Power seemed to radiate off her in waves, and she felt as ancient as the land itself. He remembered stories from youth, told to him by an Irish nanny, the washer at the ford, the goddess Macha. His mind filled with the black wings of ravens picking the flesh from the dead. “Goddess, don’t believe I’ve met any of your daughters.”

“You have known three”, she hissed. “Two you killed. The third you have fed from. She, she would champion you.” Her voice was filled with suspicion.

His memory came back, crashing down upon him like an avalanche of boulders. The two Slayers he killed. The third Slayer would be Buffy, his Buffy. His mind was in turmoil. How could he make this Being understand his choice, his love? Somehow he knew his very survival hinged on it.

She circled closer, lunging every few feet to get him off balance. He tried to fight back, but she was too fast. She lashed out clawing his bare chest with her fingertips. Her touch burned, searing and blackening his flesh. She was herding him, forcing his back up against a monolith of ocher stone.

“Why should I not kill you, Vampire?” Her breath smelled of carrion, as she leaned close, almost whispering in his ear.

“I love her.” Spike stated simply. He had to make her believe, but he felt that words alone would not suffice. He looked deeply in her eyes trying to convey the truth of his words, and realized for the first time that the irises of her eyes were endlessly dark and filled with stars.

“You love her?” She sneered, her voice filled with terrible laughter. Its echo carried with it the voices of his victims as they begged him for mercy.

“She loves me, too!” He raged defiantly.

“You took her. You fed on her. You will kill her.” Her powerful right hand wrapped around his throat burning and choking him. A wooden stake appeared in her left hand, and she brought it up preparing to reduce him to dust.

“No”, he could barely get the word out. “You’re wrong”. “I won’t kill her. Her blood was a gift, freely given.” The Being in front of him began to shimmer as if waves of heat were rising from it. He could sense her in his mind rummaging there, going where the hell bitch had never been able to reach. He fought with all his might to block her access. Exhaustion was setting and he knew he was on the verge of passing out.

Suddenly the Goddess was gone and in her place stood the petite blonde form that his senses responded to like no other. He whispered her name. “Buffy?”

She reached out a hand to touch his face. “You love me?” Her words and her touch acted as a cooling balm soothing the rents that the Goddess had torn threw his mind.

“Yes, oh yes!” He moaned as he drew her to him, kissing her fiercely.

After a few moments they broke apart, and he looked into her eyes, eyes of starfield black.

The Goddess, in Buffy’s form, stepped back and smiled. “Her blood has changed you, and you are hers.” Her voice was filled with laughter. She leaned forward again and captured his lips.

Flames of passion overwhelmed him, pain and pleasure mixed. He felt himself dying, burning from her radiance, and then he was gone.

 

***

 

Xander was pissed and disgusted, not only at Buffy, but at himself too. His mind replayed the last things Buffy had said to him before the girls left for the Magic Box.

“I want you to stay here and protect Spike.” Her voice had held all the command of a four star general.

He had pulled away from her. Turned away. He didn’t even want to look at her. She had grabbed him by the arm, using her strength to spin him around. Just to show him who was top bitch, his mind chorused.

“Look, I kept quiet about that Angel remark, I felt like I deserved it, but I don’t deserve this. I know you don’t much like me right now, but you’re the only one I feel comfortable leaving here alone. You can protect yourself, the Anya can’t, and I need Tara for research. Until we know just what is going on I need you to stay with him.”

In the end he’d agreed. And now he sat on one of the cavern’s numerous outcroppings watching Spike play dead. He began talk out loud to fill the silence. “ I can actually relate to the masochism, Spike, buddy. I’ve stuck with Buffy for the same reason. Oh, sure we’re friends. I’m her big brother, you know. But I still love her; want her. Never came close though.”

He took one of Spike’s swords down from the wall, swinging it in the first steps of the crescent moon drill that Giles had taught him. His muscles were hardened from the heavy labor of construction work. He felt as if he had finally grown into his body. With grace and control he turned and laid the tip of the blade against the vampire’s throat.

“What’s wrong with me is that I’m too nice. It must take being a demonic jerk to win her heart. She never loved Riley and didn’t give me the time of day.” Rage washed over him, like ice. “How dare you corrupt her!” He swung the sword up with every intention of striking off Spike’s head only to stop at the last moment. “Yeah, too nice.”

He turned away from the bed, almost tripping over the hideous blue demon that had been sneaking up behind him during his tirade. He brought up the sword, swinging it in a downward hacking motion severing the monster’s arm from its shoulder. The beast roared, and used its remaining arm to knock him across the bed. He rolled over Spike and slid off the other side. The sword was gone. He began looking wildly for something else to use as a weapon when he realized the beast was no longer interested in him, or Spike. It was stealing something. Dragging a duffle bag to the back of the cavern toward the sewers.

He called the girls on the cellphone to apprise them of the latest. They returned in Anya’s little red two-seater that they had driven that morning. Upon arriving it gratified him the way Anya immediately ran to him checking him over to see if he was all right. Then she oh-ed and ah-ed over his bravery and daring at hacking off the monster’s arm. She could make him feel so good about himself, he thought. It was one of the reason’s he loved her so.

“We got the books from the shop. I think the best thing will be to take Spike back to my house, and get into research mode.”

They hauled Spike out to the car rolled in a blanket. Buffy had nearly thrown a conniption when they had finally decided to place Spike in the trunk, but there was just no room in Anya’s car. Buffy and Tara would already be sitting knee to knee. Xander prayed that the cops didn’t pull them over before they got to the Summers’ house. It would be impossible to explain a handcuffed corpse in the trunk that went poof when the police pulled the blanket off.

 

Chapter 7 

When Spike opened his eyes the scene had changed. He checked himself over. The injuries inflicted by the goddess were gone. He looked around for the first time taking in this new environment. He was sitting in the fog near the bank of a river. He felt like he knew this place. He was almost sure it was the Thames. This was near where his mother’s house used to be. He realized he could hear someone coming toward him. She was young, and clothed in the period costume of the late 1800’s. He recognized her.

“Paige”, he called.

“Brother, there you are. Mother will be sorely distressed if you take a chill.”

His sister, with her long russet hair and dancing green eyes, alive. He took her hand and felt warm living flesh. He stood looking at her along time. He had never realized before how much Dawn reminded him of her.

“Come Brother, let’s go home” Paige led him down the familiar streets to entrance of their town home, pulling him inside.

“There now, let me hang up your coat.”

Spike looked down at himself. He was wearing his typical black jeans and leather duster, but she didn’t appear to notice or find anything unusual about it.

Waiting for her to notice, he handed her the coat.

“Why don’t you go on into the drawing room, the fire’s all laid out there.”

The gaslights that lit the room gave off a low hiss as they burned. He had forgotten that. The furniture was the same though, heavy, dark, and covered with doilies that the female members of his family had all crocheted. He sat down in his usual chair before the fire. The burgundy colored leather was supple and smooth as he ran his hand over the armrests. He looked to the right of the chair where his journal and quill had sat. They were still there. He picked up the blue calf’s hide binding gingerly as if it would crumble to dust upon his touch. He flipped through a few pages, reading bits with a half embarrassed smile. Gods, he had been a bloody awful poet.

His sister entered then and seated herself in the chair across from him. She picked up the hoop with her embroidery and began to stitch, just like nothing was going on. He watched her quietly, remembering the numerous evenings they had spent like this before he had been turned.

“Paige, flower, why are we here?”

“The goddess sent you to me, William. Why do you ask?” She continued to stitch her needle darting in and out of the canvas.

“But why did she send me here?” He kept his voice light and coaxing.

She glanced up at him and smiled, “I can’t tell you yet.” She persisted to stitch, up and down went the needle.

“Bloody hell, what do you mean you can’t tell me?” He shouted, reaching from his chair to shake her.

“Oh, look what you made me do”. A drop of blood like a ruby gem grew on the tip of her finger where she had stabbed it with a needle. It beaded and fell slowly toward the hearth. It seemed to hang for an impossibly long time twinkling in the firelight before it marred the pristine whiteness of the marble slab. “If you’re going to be mean, I shall take myself off.”

Spike’s eyes had been mesmerized by the falling blood. He felt as if time had stretched and warped during its fall to the ground. He wasn’t sure what it meant but he knew it was important.

When he looked up Paige was gone. He went after her. He looked first in her room, but no one was there. Then he systematically tried the remaining rooms. All were empty. He started trying the outside doors and windows. They were all locked beyond his strength to budge. He was trapped in the house alone.

Having nothing else to do he returned to the parlor. He made certain the heavy curtains were pulled across the window to block any potential sunbeams. Then he settled in for the night in front of the fire. If he were lucky he would wake up somewhere else.

 

***

 

This was really, really uncomfortable. Buffy thought. The five of them sat around the dinning room table in silence. Willow was ticked at being left out. Xander would only speak to her through another person. Poor Tara was sitting as far away from Will as possible and wouldn’t look up from the reference she was searching. Anya was the only one who was acting normal, but she was reading a bridal magazine.

“Look, this has got to stop. I know you are all, except for Anya and Tara, ticked at me for a variety of reasons.”

Anya interrupted, “I’m ticked too. You got me out of bed way too early this morning”

“Ok. Tara are you ticked at me as well? That makes it almost unanimous doesn’t it?” Her eyes flashed as she stood at the head of the table. “I’m sorry. I screwed up. But Spike’s in a coma, and I need your help. I’m not asking you to do it for him. I’m asking you to do it for me.” She looked at each one of them in turn, making sure she caught their eyes. “You all know the whole sordid story now.” She looked down suddenly embarrassed. “I used to care so much about what you all thought of me. I still do but not as much. I’ve changed. I’m not blaming you all for that change, but it’s a fact. It happened, and we all have to deal. I need Spike, and I need you to help me bring him back. “

Tara, ever the peacemaker started. “It could be like a sleeping beauty spell”, she offered. “Where you’d have to wake him with a kiss.”

“Buffy’s a Slayer, not a princess. I thought it took a princess to break that type of spell”, supplied Xander.

“That’s a myth”, stated Anya. “Being raped is what awakened the real sleeping beauty. Those roses surrounding the castle weren’t to keep the prince from getting in, but from escaping. Those briars tore him to pieces. It was one of my best pieces of work.”

Willow sighed in disgust and shook her head. “Another one of my favorite fairy tales squashed. Anya may be on the right track though, there have been other stories about breaking enchantments through sex magic”, added Willow. She reached for one of the Egyptian translations and began to search.

“I’m still not convinced it was the sex. Spike and I have had sex a lot. My gut feeling is that it’s related to the blood. No pun intended. Besides it’s the only thing that explains why the demon stole the dirty laundry.”

“Just how often is a lot?” Xander raised his eyebrows.

“More then once, and that’s all the answer your going to get”, Buffy replied.

“Buffy, I remember reading about the transference of power through the exchange of blood in one of Giles texts. I looked on the shelf for it when we were at the store, but I think he must have taken it with him”, Tara said apologetically.

“Oh, I remember that one. It was the one Giles used when you became all telepathy.”

“Will, that spell required the heart of the demon that infected me. I do not consider it an option in this case,” she intoned sarcastically. “I want us both to come through this alive. Well, one of us alive and the other at least animated.”

“Tara’s got a point,” Buffy continued. “I really, really didn’t want to, but I may have to call Giles. Do you realize how embarrassing it’s going to be to tell him that I let Spike feed, had sex with him, and to top it off, it went wrong? Men Giles’ age, aren’t even supposed to think about sex. It could give him a heart attack.” Just contemplating that phone call made her anxious. Subconsciously, she began to massage her temples.

“Buffy, just give me a day to do some research, I’m sure I can find a spell that can fix this”, pleaded Willow.

“Will, I know you mean well, but I want you to promise me that you won’t do any magic on your own. Promise me that you will tell all of us. For now you need to rely on our judgment. Please? Just until you get well.” Buffy pleaded with her long time friend. She couldn’t be sure, but she suspected that powerful magics Willow had used to raise her from the dead had changed her friend as much as it had changed herself.

“I’m fine, really”, Willow said pointedly.

“Will,” stated Buffy using her I’m in command voice.

“Alright, I promise not to try any spells without talking it over with you first. Girl Scout’s oath.” Willow gave her the scout’s salute.

 

Chapter 8 

Buffy lay in bed reading the Egyptian text Will had relinquished to her, but the language was so difficult she had a hard time maintaining her focus. Her mind kept slipping back to the things that had gone on today. Dawn had been tremendously upset when Buffy had given her a heavily edited version of what had happened. She had spent the rest of the evening sitting beside Spike on the basement sofa holding his hand and talking to him. It was probably bringing back bad memories of when Mom was ill. Buffy had had to drag her to bed at eleven. She’d probably have to take Dawn to school tomorrow morning too, or Dawn would just skip.

Buffy forced herself to go back to reading the book. All this stuff about doing it with dead bodies was really perverse. She just wasn’t into necrophilia. The spell for breaking enchanted sleep was easy enough, you just basically just had to have sex with the body until the erotic energy built enough for it reanimated itself. Buffy could see why the spell was more successful for awaking women then men, but it couldn’t hurt to give it a shot.

She tiptoed quietly downstairs; she hoped Willow and Dawn were deeply asleep. If she had to explain one more thing about her sex life, she just might have to kill herself.

 

***

Spike dreamed of Buffy. There was no sight or sound, it was all darkness and warmth. He couldn’t comprehend how this was happening. How could you dream inside a dream? But she was here, lying on top of him, her sweet weight pressing him down. The sensation of her touch permeated the barrier between his dreams. He could feel her kissing his mouth and his neck and the silky caress of her long hair gliding across his chest, teasing his nipples. He felt himself rise to her insistent hands and mouth. It was only when she mounted him that he realized something was wrong. He couldn’t move, couldn’t reach to her. It was as if he was completely paralyzed. His mind screamed and fought. This was wrong. He forced himself up and out of the dream, away from her.

 

***

It hadn’t worked. She was so disappointed she wanted to cry, but she had cried too much lately and all it did was give her red, blotchy skin and the hiccups. It didn’t solve anything. She pulled Spike’s clothes back together and got him redressed. She looked at the clock on the wall, 4AM. It was time to pull out the big guns. It was time to call Giles.

She thought the time difference would make it about noon in London. She knew that was early, and he might not even be home yet, but if she called now she stood a better chance of actually having a private conversation. She got the number off the refrigerator in the kitchen and went back down to the basement to call.

He answered on the third ring, “Rupert Giles’ residence”.

“Hi, Giles. Um, you getting all unpacked and squared away?” Buffy was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, her knees tucked up to her chin. She held Spike’s hand as she talked.

“Buffy?”

“Yeah, It’s me. Look I have a bit of a problem here. I know you want me to solve my problems on my own, but Tara thinks you may have taken the book on blood magic that we need.” She could hear the rustle of movement and figured he had gone over to where ever he thought the book might be.

“Do you remember the title?”

“No, but it was the one you used when I got infected by that demon and started hearing what was going on in people’s minds.” She was so nervous she was chewing on her lip; she hadn’t done that since she was about ten.

“Have you become infected again? What did the demon look like? What are your symptoms?”

“Not me, and the symptoms are like a coma”, hedged Buffy, she still wanted to avoid telling him if at all possible.

“Who’s been injured? Are they in the hospital?”

Buffy heard the rattling of glassware and the sound of liquid being poured.

“It’s Spike, and no. He’s right here beside me on the basement couch.”

“Hmm, I can’t think of too many things that could infect a vampire. The demon’s very nature prevents encroachment from other predatory entities. Possibly a spell of some type; you’ve conferred with Willow and Tara?”

“Yes, that’s why I called about the book. We know it involved an exchange of blood.”

“Buffy?” He knew that he didn’t want to hear the answer to his question even as he asked it. “On whom did Spike feed?”

“Me. He fed from me.”

She heard the sound of breaking glass a figured he had dropped his drink. This conversation was going about the way she had expected, badly. She heard him curse in the background and it sounded like he had cut himself on the glass. The line fell silent for a few seconds. When he returned, his calmness and his words surprised her.

“Buffy, as you are still among the living, and are seeking information to revive Spike, I shall attribute this to something other then an act of aggression. Would you care to explain just how he managed to find away around the chip to accomplish this act. I promise I will not judge, but I do need the information if I am to assist you toward a solution.”

He was so great at understanding. She felt the anger she had held toward him since he had returned to England ease a little. It was good to know that he was still there for her, even if he wasn’t here for her. Ok, that thought got kind of confused as it went, but she knew what she meant.

She began to explain about Spike finding out the chip no longer worked around her, only her. She described to Giles the devastation she had felt when she had been confronted with the fact that the chip failed to identify her as human. She told him about Will endangering Dawn’s life, her addiction to magic, and her own feelings that the addiction was linked to the resurrection spell. She told him of Spike’s disappearance and return, and her realization that she cared for him. She spoke of finding Joyce’s journal and letters, and her need to prove that Spike really wouldn’t hurt her. Finally, as delicately as possible, she described the test she had devised and its distressing consequences.

Through it all, Giles had remained relatively quiet. He just supplied a few encouraging murmurs, asking questions only when he needed clarification. He was using all those active listening skills that they tried to teach her in high school. At one time his use of those therapeutic techniques to get her to confess to things had made her feel manipulated and tricked. Now, she knew them for a sign of his caring, and was grateful.

 

***

Spike opened his eyes; the coal fire burning low in the grate provided enough light to see that he was still in his mother’s house.

After dreaming of Buffy he couldn’t sleep. He wandered from room to room looking for traces of his previous life. Finally he ended up in the bedroom that he had had as a living youth. It was exactly as he had left it the day he had gone to the party, to be near Cecily. There were his spare cravats lying all over the dresser. The novel he had been reading lay on the bedside table next to the ornate oil lamp.

He could barely remember the person he had been at that time. That had been only the first 23 years of his life, formative years maybe, but when compared with over a hundred years as a vampire, he knew which had the most impact. He was Spike now, not William Bludget, the third. Next time he found Paige, she was going to get a chance to make Spike’s acquaintance, and get to know exactly what her big brother had become. It was time for Big Bad to get some answers.

 

Chapter 9 

Monday had been terrible. Pulling Dawn away from Spike and getting her off to school had set off a verbal battle between the sisters that had left Buffy feeling guilty and put upon. It shouldn’t have to be her job to get Dawn off to school, but in her heart she knew she was the only one capable of doing it since her mom was gone.

When Dawn came home from school that evening she hadn’t said a word, just went straight down to the basement. When Buffy had checked on her a while later, she had been at the computer reading their mom’s journal. She mental made a note to herself to have Will password protect the steamier entries, and returned to the dinning room to do some more research.

 

*** Spike awoke when something bounced on the bed. He groaned but didn’t open his eyes.   
“William”, said the young girl bouncing harder. “Get up and come to the parlor. You don’t want mother to be mad at me, do you? Remember what she always said about being in a gentleman’s room.”

“Paige, go on quit. I’m trying to sleep.” Spike realized as soon as the words left his mouth that he had fallen into the pattern of bickering that they had had when they were alive. That he even remembered this ritual brought him a round with a jolt. It was down right weird.

He sat up with his back to the headboard and his long legs stretched in front of him, and stared at the form of his sister. “Paige, take a look at me, don’t you see anything different?”

“I only see my sweet brother William”, she replied smiling kindly.

“Paige, stop it.” His voice was much harder; he was tired of being nice. “I think its time I received some answers.”

“William”, she said pleadingly.

“Name’s not William anymore. It’s Spike. You are not my sister. My sister has been dead for over 80 years. Someone owes me some answers and I’m going to get them.” Using his vampiric speed, he twisted an arm around her neck and tried to trap her against his chest.

She vanished.

He heard in her voice in his head. “If your going to be mean, I shall just leave again.”

He picked up the book on the bedside table and threw it against the wall. It hit with a resounding thud, and slithered down into a heap, its spine broken.

 

***

It had been four days now, four very long days. Buffy wished they had been able to find the answer, or at least a lead toward an answer but they had been stumped at every turn. Her friends had been doing their best to come up with some plausible explanations as to why this had happened, but didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.

It had become uncomfortable for Buffy to listen to herself being discussed in third person, as if she wasn’t there. Since overhearing their last conversation, speculating on what type of demonic properties she had acquired during her latest round with death, she had avoided the Magic Box and just let Willow give her a summary of progress.

The days had fallen into a routine now. Buffy or Will would cook dinner. Will would study, and then Dawn and Buffy would go to the basement to read a section of the journal before Buffy would go patrol. Dawn would read bits out loud as Buffy sat on the floor in front of the couch holding Spike’s hand. Sometimes they would discuss what they read, but often they sat in silence each lost in their own thoughts.

 

_I almost died this evening. That little man who had been with Travers kidnapped me and turned me over to this vampire. He was CRAZY and sadistic. He took pictures of me to torment Buffy with. All the time he was taking photographs he was telling me what he was going to do to her, and to me. I felt like I had been trapped in some horrible version of Silence of the Lambs. I’m not sure whom I was more frightened for. Thank god, Dawn was up in her room when they came. I just prayed that they wouldn’t find her._

_Buffy saved my life this evening. No, the Slayer saved me. The she was so smart, so resourceful. She tricked the vampire into drinking holy water. It caused the vampire to burn from inside out. I hope I never see anything like that again. It was horrible._

_Buffy was very much an adult, so in control. She made me feel safe. When did our roles change? When did she grow up? She’s had to grow up too fast. I’m supposed to be the one to make her feel safe. I’m the one that is supposed to protect her._

 

“You know, Buffy, I think the scoobies are going about this all wrong”. Dawn turned the desk chair so that she was facing her sister.

“What do you mean?” Buffy was looking at Spike’s hand. She wondered when he had stopped painting his nails?

“Remember when you sang to Sweet that you thought you were in heaven. Well, reading Mom’s journal just now made me think. What if the change that caused Spike’s chip to fail around you wasn’t because you had suddenly become all demonic, but because you brought something holy back with you. It makes more sense that you would be changed for good in heaven, then if you’d become darker.”

Buffy looked a Dawn, her mouth open in shock. A feeling of hope was born in her chest. She found herself searching internally, rooting around in the experiences and emotions she had had since her return. She touched each one gingerly with this new piece of information, as gently as if she had been exploring a sore tooth with her tongue. It fit. It rang true. Her heart sang with vindication, she wasn’t evil.

. Buffy flung herself off the floor and caught Dawn in a hug so hard se squealed. “Thank you, thank you!” Tears of joy fell down Buffy’s face unnoticed. “I’m so glad you are my sister.”

The next day Buffy called her friends together for a meeting at the Magic Box. “Dawn and I were reading Mom’s journal last night and something occurred to Dawn that I think maybe important. It may explain why Spike had the reaction he did to my blood.”

Buffy watched as Dawn described the previous evening’s discussion. Dawn was growing up, she thought. She could really hold her own with when it came to discussing plans and tactics. She gave Dawn’s hand a squeeze to show her some support.

“So, Dawnster let me get this right, you think Fang Face’s chip got zapped because Buffy’s like an angel or something?” Xander raised his eyebrows skeptically.

“No offense, Buff, but you are not the angelic type. You kick butt too well.”

“Th th there have been lots of holy people who have been warriors, Xander, like Saint George, and Saint Michael”, replied Tara.

 

Chapter 10 

Spike stomped down the stairs to the parlor. “Paige, I know you can hear me. Come here this bloody instant!” He hadn’t been this angry with her since she’d been twelve and had nicked his notebook, giving all her chums a peepshow.

When he entered the room, Paige was seated in her usual chair. “What’s with the Bloody Dickens’s Christmas Carol routine?”

“Funny Will. I think you actually found a sense of humor since you became a vampire. You used to be so morose.” She smiled broadly and giggled. “Yes, yes, that little undigested bit of blood is certainly the reason you are seeing spirits.”

“I’m glad you find it so bloody funny. Now how do I get back home?”

“You can not. They have to call you.” Her innocent eyes widened, she continued. “By blood and earth shall they call you. Then and only then shall you return”.

Spike knew he should have more patience dealing with this mumbo jumbo stuff. Hell, he’d spent long enough listening to Dru babble, but somehow it ticked him off more when the words came from the mouth of his little sister.

 

***

Buffy was at the Magic Box, talking on the phone with Giles. Willow had finally found a spell that looked likely to work if they could find all of the ingredients. And that was a big IF.

“Read that passage again for me.”

Buffy reread the passage from the heavy leather bound book. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Anya giving her a dirty look for staying on the phone so long.

“Yes it does sound promising. I want you to fax me a copy of your translation from the shop, and don’t let Anya charge you for it. You tell her it’s on my orders.”

Buffy went to the back and photocopied the text and faxed it. To pass the time she went and helped a customer locate a book on money accumulating spells. She kept her mouth shut, but she knew for a fact that they didn’t work. When the phone rang she hurriedly murmured her excuses and raced to catch it.

“Buffy, some of these ingredients are rather obscure. It may be difficult to obtain some of the soil where Spike was born, but I will stick the council historian on it.”

“Willow brought up the point that with him being a vampire, the dirt we need might actually be from his grave”, offered Buffy.

“That would make it easier. I’ll ring off now and get started. Call if anything changes.”

 

***

 

It had been two weeks, but the wait was finally over. Buffy sat holding the box that Giles had sent in her lap. Its brown paper was covered with funny looking postage. She had just picked up from the post office a few minutes ago. Tonight they should be able to invoke the spell that would wake Spike up. She leaned her head back against the seat while Tara drove. The spell called for three women participate, assuming the roles of maiden, mother, and crone. She wasn’t sure it would work. While she had been gratified to learn that Dawn could still assume the role of maiden, she still was uncomfortable in her role as mother, and Tara couldn’t be considered a crone by any stretch of the imagination.

It had been hell living with Will the past few days. Buffy knew the only reason she’d agreed to let them perform the spell without her was that she was sure it would fail, and then Buffy would have to call her in.

When they got home, they moved Spike to the basement floor. Tara began to chalk a protective circle around him. Dawn set up the candles at the cardinal points and lit the hibachi for the incense. They were using rosemary for remembrance.

Buffy sat on the couch watching them lost in her own thoughts. She passed Tara’s athame back and forth between her hands, the knife glittered in the candle light. She was running the steps that they had practiced through her head. First Tara would chant, pouring out the earth Giles had sent on to Spike’s chest. Then they would step together chanting and forming a cone of power. Finally they would each cut the palms of their left hands, and bringing them together they would allow the blood to drip on the earth.

The earth was the key, if they didn’t have the right stuff it wasn’t going to work. Giles had sent along two baggies filled with dirt. The first was from his grave, and the second was from the Bludget family estate, where the council historian had thought it likely that Spike had been born.

She remembered Giles’ words on the phone three days ago.

“Use them both. Maybe you will get lucky, and it will be what you need. The original spell was not as clear as your translation. It could have been that we just needed dirt from the continent that he was born on or it might be as specific dirt that was mixed with the placenta from his birth. I just can’t be sure.”

 

Chapter 11

 

Spike sat there trying to tease a little more concrete information out of the sprite that wore his sister’s form, but he had to admit he was getting nowhere. The little bint just wouldn’t budge. The only additional information she had imparted was that Buffy’s blood had changed him, but she refused to tell him how or why. He wanted to strangle her, but he knew that she would just disappear again. After a while he gave up and just sat and stared at her. The prick of the needle on canvas echoed loudly in the room as she sewed.

As the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed midnight, the room seemed to shift and rock. Smoke poured from the cracks in the wall flooding the floor with a misty vapor.

“So it begins.” She smiled and stood. Then she hugged him. Her form turned to mist in his arms. Her last words came to him softly as if from a great distance. “ I love you, big brother.

***

Buffy felt power swell under her feet as Tara faced Northward beseeching the powers of earth. The circle surrounding them glowed green, startling her for a second. Dawn chanted her part invoking the powers of air to the East. A wild sweet wind answered circling the girls, and whipping their hair around their faces. Tara turned toward the South and called on fire to come to their aid. The candles flared and added their light to the luminous dome that grown to encapsulate them all.

It was Buffy’s turn now. She turned to the West invited the spirit of water to join them in their endeavor. Water held sway over emotions. She felt the answering response deep in her own body and knew the others felt it too by the way their postures changed. Each stood a little straighter as the water molecules in their blood and bodies recognized the call of power.

Tara began to chant the Latin phrases of the spell. Her voice seemed to come at Buffy in waves, first loud and then soft. Things were blurring. Power thrummed audibly now, and the winds circled with the force of a tornado. Buffy could no longer see the outline of the basement furniture through the angry brownish red arc of energy that surrounded them. Buffy grabbed Dawn with both arms to keep her inside the circle as Tara continued to chant. Suddenly a crash of thunder sounded. Lighting ripped through the two girls and Spike and they were gone.

Tara was left alone staring at the empty basement.

 

****

 

Buffy and Dawn stood on a high bluff looking down on a windswept desert. The light of the red sun painted the sand in tones of cadmium, sienna, and ocher. Spike lay at their feet. He remained lifeless and in the same position that they had placed him in back in the basement. The mound of dirt still formed a small pyramid on his chest. Buffy turned three hundred and sixty degrees. The ground surrounding them bore the symbols of their spell as if lasers had etched them into the soil.

“Buffy, where are we?” Apprehension and awe warred across Dawn’s features.

“I’m not sure, but it reminds me of….” Where I met the first Slayer. Buffy had no more than finished the thought when she was there.

Buffy moved slowly placing herself between Dawn and the other woman. The Slayer was wearing her traditional bandages for clothing outfit and her hair was just as frightful as ever. She looked older though; wide swaths a gray were interwoven through the dreadlocks now. Buffy widened her stance centering herself for the battle that was certain to come.

Dawn watched as the woman walked toward her sister with her hand out stretched. There was poignancy in their contrast: dark and light, ugly and beautiful, age and youth. Dawn felt like she was on the verge of realizing some tremendous secret if she could just grasp what it was.

Buffy held her ground and watched the figure intently as she searched for any signs of aggression.

“Daughter, do you know what you are? Do you know what is to come? You’ve only taken your first steps.” Her hand caressed Buffy’s cheek.

The voice filled Buffy with emotions. It touched her with gentleness, and longing. Pain and responsibility were there too. It was terrible. Buffy wanted to cover her ears. To hide. To escape.

An obsidian blade appeared in the Slayer’s hand. With a quick slash she rent the flesh of her other palm. Blood so deep a shade of red that it was almost black welled from the cut. She offered the knife to Buffy.

Buffy felt herself hesitate, and then firmly grasped the stone blade slicing down into the flesh of her own palm. Without a word she offered the knife to Dawn.

Dawn’s hand shook as she carefully took the stone. Its glasslike black shaft was now slick with blood. With a small cry, she quickly drew the scalpel sharp blade across her left palm piercing the flesh.

The three women joined hands over Spike’s body. Palm to palm, their blood mingled and ran, dripping on to the dark pile of earth mounded on his chest. Chanting they called him home.

 

***

 

His mother’s house had spun away from him as it had filled with mist. Spike was lost. Lost in a place without form or substance. He floated in the empty void, waiting. He waited without even knowing what he was waiting for. After an infinity of nothing, he recognized a change. A scent, seductive in its pungency, called to him. Lured him. He followed the familiar smell of blood to its origin, and it brought him home.

 

Chapter 11

 

When Tara had awakened them from their heap on the floor, the first thing Spike had done was grab Buffy’s arms, and pull her into his embrace. He looked deeply into her eyes, and then kissed her forcefully; needing to prove to himself that she was real.

Buffy felt like her body was on fire. The passion his kiss was so intense that she was sure the carpet would have melted if they hadn’t taken it up because of the flood. She knew it would have evolved into something else, if Tara and Dawn hadn’t been standing there looking at them. As it was, she was the one who had pulled away first, embarrassed.

She shouldn’t have pulled away. She realized it almost immediately. He shut down, suddenly cold and distant. Oh, he was polite and all. He thanked Tara and Dawn for helping to bring him back, said he didn’t remember anything. Then as soon as she had her back turned, he left.

Since then he had, for all intents and purposes, disappeared. Oh, Anya said he had been down at the Magic Box going through the reference books, and Dawn said she had seen him briefly at his crypt. He hadn’t wanted to talk to her either. Buffy couldn’t figure it out; it was like their roles had switched, and now she was stalking him.

 

***

The figure, carved from teak wood, had darkened to black with age. Unlike the other sculptures in the church, it alone remained unpainted. White linen hung in swaths between extended arms. At first glance you could mistake the article held in one of her hands for the artist’s representation of a candle, but Spike knew it was a stake. He been staring at the statue for almost forty-five minutes as he waited for Buffy to arrive. The emotions it touched off were complex; he couldn’t quite put a name to it, but the combination of hate and awe came close.

For the last three days he had been trying to figure out just what type of change the goddess and his sister had spoken of. He’d done the research bit. He’d pumped Anya for information. He’d even called Giles in London. Nothing. He’d tested himself against all the typical things: sun, holy water, crosses. They all still burned, and he had the blisters to prove it. He looked ruefully down at his reddened palm.

In fact, that was how he ended up in this church to begin with. He had come with the mission of testing himself against one of the crucifixes. Just entering the church was bad enough; he hated walking on consecrated ground. It gave him an angry itchy feeling, as if the stones in the foundation itself were crying out for his annihilation. When the old priest had gone to hear confessions, he had grasped one of the wooden crosses placed along the wall at intervals. Luckily, most of the observers were elderly, and had probably dismissed the whiff of smoke coming off his palm as dirty specs. He had been on the verge of leaving when the statue caught his eye and drew him into the small side chapel.

He felt the change the minute he stepped over the threshold between the rooms. It was as if he had entered the eye of a storm. It was quiet, too quiet. He knew instantly that the statue was far older then the church in which it stood, older even than the religion that currently worshiped it. He also recognized that the power that held sway over this territory did not scorn him, as did the other only inches away. At that point he realized he needed to talk to Buffy. It had taken some effort to force himself back out into the main hall and then even more effort to return once he had made his call.

Buffy looked for Spike as she entered the church. Evening mass had ended, but there were still a few people milling around. She slowly strode through the great stone archways with their windows of stained glass, glancing at the people who remained seated on the dark oak benches. She hadn’t been back to church since her Mom’s funeral and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be here now.

She’d been baffled when Dawn gave her the message. She didn’t know which question she wanted answered first. Where have you been for the last three days, topped the list, but why are we meeting in a church, came in a close second. But when she saw him, what actually came out of her mouth was, “Are you praying?”

“Hell, no”, came the startled response. The eyes of the remaining congregants turned toward them. He pulled Buffy into the pew next to him.

Eyes on her face, he gave a sideways nod at the statue. “She said you changed me. Been trying to figure out what she meant.”

“Who, Spike? What are you talking about?”

“Bloody hell, you can’t feel it can you?”

“Would you lower your voice”. Buffy could see the priest watching them out of the corner of her eye.

“It makes sense really”, said Spike talking to himself. “Didn’t feel it until now. Bloody power is the same type.”

“Spike if you don’t start talking sense, the alter guild will be cleaning up more dust then after Ash Wednesday services.”

“Your goddess, pet. The one who called the command performance after I fed on you. Bloody nightmare she was. She said that you changed me.”

Buffy looked at him blankly.

“You must know. I remember her there when you woke me. She called you her daughter.”

“The first Slayer?”

“Names don’t matter to the likes of her. Call her the first Slayer if you want, but she’s still a goddess.”

Buffy examined the sickle shaped scar on the palm of her left hand. Dawn had one just like it. The cuts had been completely healed when they had returned to the basement. Lost in her own thoughts she missed Spike’s next words.

“……You woke her up with the spell you used to defeat Adam.”

Buffy looked at him, eyes narrowed, trying to remember something. Her voice when it came was hesitant and slow. “You were there, in the spell with us. I remember. I needed to become the focus, but I couldn’t follow the power without unbalancing the elements. I needed somebody to take over my role of warrior. I brought you in. Her voice faster, excited, “That’s what woke her. When I pulled you in. I felt it.”

Spike nodded his head.

“If you remembered, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Weren’t exactly on speaking terms then, now were we? No way in hell, I’d have admitted to helping you then, less there was something in it for me. Besides, I may have awakened her, but feeding on you is what got me that little face to face chat. When they brought you back you changed, became less human. When I fed from you I changed, too.

“I’m not evil. Dawn and I figured it…..”

“I didn’t say you were. You’re so far beyond those terms; I don’t know what you are. Except, she called you daughter. Just whose power do you think Red borrowed to bring you back? Powerful witch though she is, she’ s still mortal. It took something more than a mere mortal to bring you across that barrier.

He continued, “Buffy, there are always consequences when blood is exchanged, Blood is power, and power is magic.”

“Wait, what about all those people who have transfusions everyday?” She protested.

“Regular people, little magic, little consequences. Now a Slayer’s blood, that’s big magic.”

“What about Angel and Dracula, They both fed on me. I didn’t change them.” It dawned on her as she said it; that three vampires had actually fed on her, three. She hadn’t died from it. She couldn’t remember any other Slayer who had ever been bitten and survived, not even one. Her mind kept going over her track record. No other Slayers had been brought back from the dead either, and here she was on her third life. “What am I”, she thought?

“You don’t know that. I’ve fed off of two other Slayers before you and I can tell you ….”

“Spike, I’ve had enough of this. I’m going.” She started to leave the pew.

Spike grabbed her wrists and pulled her toward him. “Your bloody well going to stay put and listen to what I have to say.”

The priest sat down on the bench behind them. “Can I offer some counsel, my children?”

“No thank you, Father. I was just leaving.” Buffy disengaged her wrists from Spike’s grasp and stepped into the aisle.

The priest followed her out, placing himself between the two. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but maybe he could diffuse the situation. He wanted to give the young woman time to get away.

Spike pushed pass him knocking the priest into a stone pillar. “Sorry about that, Padre”, he growled.

He caught up with her outside. “Slayer, you need to listen. That little rip and tear she took through my brain wasn’t all one-way. I know for a bloody fact that she has plans for you.”

The words stopped Buffy in her tracks. She turned toward him. “If she wants a fight I can give her one. I’ve taken down gods before.” She was sure it would have been more believable if she hadn’t been shaking so hard.

He took her by the shoulders, and gently tilted her face up to his. “She wants you to. She wants you to fight so she can lose. She wants you to take her place.” He shook his head. “The only way you are going to win this battle is to stay alive. Give yourself time to figure out who you are now. Make it your choice not hers.”

She rested her head on his chest. They stayed that way for a few moments in silence, and then with a sigh she asked, “How did I change you?”

“Don’t know, luv, but it can only be for the better, right?” As he kissed her gently, he ran his hands underneath her shirt stroking the small of her back.

Buffy leaned into the kiss. It’s nice that we can be gentle with each other, too, she thought. She upped the heat a notch, molding her body to his. “Come on let’s go home.”

Home, his mind echoed, wherever she is, is home. He knew Buffy was in reaction mode again. Always got impulsive when she got hit with anything new. He wanted to make certain she wouldn’t regret this decision. “What about Dawn?”

“Maybe it’s time she got used to us being together?”

“Yeah, maybe it is. Say, did I ever tell you about my little sister Paige?” He took her arm, and began to walk back toward the Summers’ house. Going home.

The End


End file.
